Page 60 of Forbidden Mistress

With a violent thrust, he’s inside me, sliding his full length in balls deep. I gasp, arching my back as he settles his hips between my spread legs. Will I ever get used to the size of him?

“Breathe,” he grumbles in that beautiful accent. “Breathe, Little Fawn.”

I suck in a breath, then exhale slowly. He waits for me, holding himself completely still, until my muscles relax a little. Then he rocks his pelvis against mine, slowly thrusting, pulling out of me, almost entirely, then plunging back in. With the blindfold on, all I see is darkness, and it just heightens the myriad sensations flooding through my body. It’s incredible.

“Ah, yes. Good girl,” he soothes, and I swear, for a second, he sounds exactly like Liam. No wonder, though. Ever since that kiss in the car, my stepbrother is at the forefront of my mind. And, God help me, I can see his beautiful face in my mind’s eye, right now. That pull of his lips when he smiles. In my fantasy, it’s him inside me right now, pushing his cock into me forcefully—and fuck, that thought just catapults my desire into a whole new level. Every sensation is heightened, more intense.

I moan at how good he feels inside me. It’s been a few weeks but feels more like forever since I’ve been fucked. I lift my hips, rocking against him in a silent demand for him to fuck me deeper, harder.

I don’t even have to say anything. Hart knows my body more than I know it myself. He slides his hands under my ass, lifting me up a little to give him a better angle. The head of his cock slams into my cervix, hard. Violent. With an urgency that matches my own. He dips his head and captures my mouth in a kiss.

“Fuck. I can’t get enough of you,” he says, pulling out of the kiss slightly, his deep baritone vibrating against my lips.

The bed rocks forward and back, hitting the wall in a steady rhythm as he thrusts into me forcefully. I ball my hands into fists, clenching so tightly, my nails bite into my palms. The pain centers me somehow and helps me control the riot of desire swirling through me.

I can’t stand it. I pull against the restraints until my wrists feel raw. I need release, and I need it now. The urgency inside me has gathered into a violent storm on the verge of breaking. I’m losing control, can’t breathe, can’t think. All I can do is feel as the sensations wash over me.

Euphoria is within my reach. I can feel it gathering in my veins.

“Breathe, baby,” he grinds out through gritted teeth. “Breathe.”

I don’t. I can’t. I’m beyond help at this point.

“Oh, fuck,” he growls. “Fuck. I’m going to come in your sweet pussy.”

With one final thrust, he stills. His cock swells and stiffens, pumping everything into me. At the same moment, I feel the cold bite of steel against my breast. The sharp blade licks my skin, leaving a trail of pain in its wake. The most delicious kind of pain that pushes me right over the edge.

The most delicious climax slams into me, quick and violent. I arch my back and just give in to it, allowing it to completely devour me. Wave after wave of hot, undulating energy overtakes me, rushing through me like liquid fire. It lasts for a long time, and Hart rocks himself against me, prolonging the delicious waves of ecstasy, stealing the breath from my lungs.

With shallow thrusts, he continues to draw out my orgasm—milking me for every last moan and gasp, before my body finally goes slack.

And the entire time he’s inside me, I’m imagining it’s Liam.

Chapter 25

Connection

As I come down from my orgasm high, I feel Hart pull away from me. A second later, I hear the faucet in the bathroom, then there’s a warm washcloth between my thighs as he cleans me up. He’s gentle, which I find oddly endearing. For such a strong, powerful man to take care of me this way…it almost seems impossible. I’ve never been cared for like this, and it makes me feel safe. Valued. Wanted.

When he’s done, he tends to the areas his knife touched, cleaning them, then gently rubbing a salve into the cuts. “It won’t scar,” he says. “I know how deep to cut.”

I blink under the blindfold. When he cut me…it had heightened the pleasure, and that realization both thrills and horrifies me. I would have never guessed I was someone who got off on pain, but Hart is awakening new parts of me, and I’m not sure how to feel about that.

He unties my wrists first, and my arms relax against my sides. Then he moves to my ankles, freeing each one. As the ropes fall away from my wrists, I instinctively reach for my blindfold.

“Don’t,” he warns darkly.

My hands fall to the bed, and I push out a breath. “I already know what you look like when I was at your office.” I’ve told him this before, but it bears repeating. “Tell me why you won’t let me see your face. We’re not even at Obscura.”

“I just can’t. Do not ask me again.”

I hear him rustle through his bag, then he returns to the bed and unties my blindfold. As it falls away from my face, my breath catches—is he letting me see his face, after all? But no, as I blink, I see the light is on but very dim, coming from the hallway beyond the doorway. But his mask is firmly in place.

“The mask again?” I ask.

Lord. How long are we going to do this? We’re halfway through our three months we plan to be together, and he’s still not allowing me to see his face, unless I’m meeting him at his office as my lawyer. I don’t understand it, but then, I guess I don’t have to. He’s not asking me to understand it, is he?

I glance down at my body and see the areas where he used the knife. The cuts are superficial, glistening from the liquid bandage he used to seal them. The ones on my hip are where he drew blood. It’s a heart he decided mark on me. I smile to myself. I know it should upset me, that he’s marked me like this. But it doesn’t. I like it.

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